Tantalus Tales: The Other Thieves
by Fox89
Summary: The World of Ivalice is an interesting place indeed. .....Hang on....Ivalice?
1. The Campfire in the Forest

"It was a difficult time in Ivalice. The war had devastated the neutral cities,the peace-treties had come to an ubrupt end with the treacherous slaying of King Raminas; and with Rozarria poised for a pre-emptive strike against the growing Imperial threat, the Kingdom of Dalmasca was left in a sorrowful state. The Lady Ashelia B'Nargan Dalmasca took to the steps in front of the grand cathedral in the city of Rabanastre to make her speech, the final barrier and glint of hope for her peace-loving people. The Marquis Ondore had sworn her security, and now here she was, heir to the throne, the fate of the nation hanging on her-"

"What the hell is this, Zidane?"

Zidane lost his concentration, and came tumbling back down to Gaia from the dreamworld he was describing. "What do you mean?" he asked, slightly offended, and more than a little confused.

Blank could do little but stare at him incredulously. Eventually, however, he found his words. "Well," he began, "On what grounds do you call that a ghost story?"

"Are you kidding me!? Treachery, deciet, an Empire's lust for power with an entire nation's democracy hanging in the balance! Who much scarier do you wanna get!?!"

Cinna was only half-listening, but his eyes found focus again as he heard this and sat up straight, worrying about the pins and needles he was going to feel in a minute when the blood rushed back into the cheeck he had leaned on his hand. "Zidane, maybe if it was happening to Lindblum I'd be worried, but there's no way anyone is ever gonna try and pass that off as a story! It's not scary, it's not exciting and I'm startin' to worry you've bored the boss to death..."

He glanced over at Baku, who was lying abnormally still on the other side of the camp fire, which Cinna noticed seemed to have suffered the same fate. What had been a roaring orange flame when Zidane begun his tale was now no more than a ptiful collection of dying embers, breathing their last hisses of regret at their misfortune to be here. Baku, however, let out a grunt and turned over, releiving the other three somewhat, although Zidane was still feeling bitter.

Behind the party was Chocobo Forest. They had left the Dragon's Gate of Lindblum that morning and set ut on foot across the plains and over the river to reach the lush greenland. Marcus hadn't joined the Camp party, as he and Ruby were watching the Prima Vista in the company's absence. Tonight they camped, and tomorrow they would venture into the forest as part of their sight-seeing hike around the continent. Or at least, that's what the moogle in the forest had been told.

Zidane was still unsure as to how they'd pull off a full Chocobo Heist without someone noticing back in Lindblum, but he supposed he'd done more dangerous things. The stars were out overhead now, and Zidane's gaze lingered a while on the crimson object a little out of place among them before he fell slowly off to sleep.

Zidane stirred groggily as the sunlight of dawn caught him in the face. With his eyes closed he murmured happily as he felt his lovers arms gently cradling his chest. Although they wern't really cradling - more like grasping. Tightly. A bit too tightly in fact. Zidane's sleep-addled mind was still trying to catch up, and by now he was panciking because his lover was trying to kill him! He couldn't move!

After a moments struggling he remembered he didn't have a lover, that he was on a camping trip, and that he had been bound tightly sometime during his slumber, which caused him to relax. He was glad he didn't have a girlfriend trying to murder him. But still, there was a nagging feeling at the back of his mind, and a second later, something clicked into place, and he was finally awake, and aware. He sat bolt upright, pulling out his knives and spinging up into a crouched position, looking all around for his captures. Or at least, he would have if he hadn't been tied up. The crumpled, coccoon like shape on the ground that was Zidane tried to move his neck a little, to look around the campsite. The other three were all awake, with Baku and Cinna looking angrily at Blank, who's turn it had been to keep guard. Their captures were nowhere to be seen, so with much effort, Zidane struggled himself upright into a seated position where he voiced his plan of attack to his comrades in arms.

"Morning!" he said cheerfully, "What's for breakfast?"

"Nothing!" said Cinna, "The geezers who did nicked our sausages!"

This was the last straw. Zidane pulled monstorusly on his ropes, his cheeks red and the sweat already pouring. He was gonna get free, and he was gonna find those damn sausages. 


	2. The Golden Steeds

Zidane was rather annoyed. His breakfast had been stolen, he had been tied up with ropes that - judging by the fact his efforts hadn't even frayed them over the last hour - must have been made out of steel, and his comrades seemed to find this all intensly amusing. Baku, Cinna and Marcus were roaring with laughter as Zidanes face grew even more purple in a vain attempt to break his bonds. Finally, something gave way, and there was a large snapping sound, and Zidane felt the pull wasn't so tight anymore, and he was able to move his left arm. Gleefully, he reached into his sheath and retrieved a dagger, slicing through the ropes and getting to his feet with a victorious grin on his face. "Haha!" He said, "Zidane one, ropes...AH!"

He had looked down to his left shoulder, which had been feeling rather strange. The angle and direction in which it was pointing told him immediatly it was dislocated. The adrenaline from the escape began to subside, and the pain began to wash over him.

30 minutes later, he awoke with a start and a yelp of pain, as he found Blank popping his shoulder back into place. The boss was rubbing his rope burns on his wrists as Cinna got some coffee going over a newly built fire. "What happened?" asked Zidane.

"BWA-HA-HA!Dont ya remember then?" asked Baku, "You took one look at that puny bit o' bone you call a shoulder and blacked out! You oughter be careful, no one in Tantalus gets away wit' bein' that whussy!" He reared his head back and sneezed loudly.

The group drank thier coffee and got to checking what equipment they had left. To their surprise, nothing but the sausages had been taken, and there were even extra pieces of equipment lying around. Blank picked up a Bangle he'd found in a metal box left by the sausage thieves. "Check this out," he said, showing it to the others, "You reckon this is siezed booty or thier own stuff?"

"It's gotta be other stuff they've nicked," said Cinna, "They wouldn't leave their own stuff lying around here would they?"

As if in answer to his question, the sound of hoofbeats chose that moment to drift into the campsite, as well as a loud "kweh!". This was followed by another, louder shout, and there were the other thieves, four of them, each riding atop a beautiful yellow Chocobo. They were closing rapidly and the Tantalus boys made thier weapons ready, Blank throwing on the Bangle he had found. Zidane jumped forward and stared hard into the eyes of the foremost thief - he had a murderous glint in his eye and an axe at his side. The man was well built, bald on the top of his head but had a goatee of red hair, and he wore a similarly coloured bandana around his shiny dome. His biceps were bulging, and a moment later Zidane saw why, as he momentarily let go of the reigns on his chocobo to draw a second axe from the other side of his body, which Zidane couldn't see properly. He then pulled the first axe from its large leather sheath and put them end to end, the first slipping inside the second. He tightened the screw to hold them fast and grasped the weapon is his right hand, holding his chocobo steady with his left. The two blades pointed in opposite directions, so the thief could simply spin the double-axe anti-clockwise to make it constantly lethal, without the need to raise and strike as he would have had to do with a single blade.

As the first man was doing this, two of the remaining riders drew swords, and another stopped his chocobo and readied a bow. This man wore a red beret with a feather in it coupled with simple leather armour. He had a short crop of black hair that elongated at the back and was tied in a ponytail. Once the bow was ready he expertly put an arrow in the quiver and pulled back, releasing quickly as he felt the tension in the bow reach its peack. He fired, and the arrow shot past the heads of his comrades on the right sides as they rode towards Tantaus. At the same moment the arrow was released, Zidane dropped to the ground, pulling Baku and Cinna with him. Blank was standing a little behind them, though, and was slower to react. As he started to drop, he felt a seraing pain in his right arm - the arrow had pierced his new bangle and embedded itself in the muscle. He roared with pain and hit the ground, whilst the archer dropped his bow to his side, holding it with one hand, and urged his Chocobo on.

By now the first three were only yards away, and Zidane could make them all out clearly. Behind the first amn with the dual-axe, there was another young man, whose hair was long but matted. It was the same shade of red as the leader, and Zidane thought they could be brothers. The final man was black, and so was his hair which was neatly cut. His dark green eyes were narrow and his mouth had curled viciously over a tuft of hair on his chin as he looked at Zidane. This last man was wearing full armour, which clanked loudly with the motion of his steed.

The first to reach the party was the axe-wielder, who scraped it along the ground towards the feet of the men still on the floor. It was meters away from sliding up between Zidane's legs and slicing him neatly in two, so he chose this moment to roll quickly to the right, as Baku next to him did the same. Baku cleared the chocobo he was avoiding, and Zidane cleared the axe. But he didn't clear the chocobo, which stamped heavily on his leg as he tried to get out the way. Zidane cried out in pain, but he could still move his leg, so he guessed nothing was broken. By this point the young brother and the armour-clad thif were upon him, slashing at him with their swords. Zidane had his daggers out swiftly and parried the blades as they came down at him. The men raced past, but he could hear them slowing, as they had reached the battle now. Zidane let Baku, Blank, and Cinna deal with the first of the thieves as he charged towards the archer. As Zidane closed him down, the archer stopped his steed again and raised his bow, confidently pulling another bow into the quiver. He took aim and released with a "thwok" sound. As he did so, Zidane threw his legs out in front of him, dropping to his backside. His momentum carried him forwards, and as this happened he held one of his daggers directly up in the air. The arrow stuck the blade point to edge, and Zidane's knife passed through the metal head and the wood behind, cutting the arrow neatly in half. The two pieces dropped to the ground twenty yards beyond, and Zidane turned sideways on his slide, rolled and bounded upwards into a run again. The archer had no time to ready another shot, so he dropped his bow and hastily pulled out a dagger of his own, trying to pull his Chocobo out of Zidane's path. He almost succeeded, but Zidane jumped high and held his blade out at arms strecth to his right. It passed over the chocobo's head but the archer was forced to roll right off it to avoid decapitation. The chocobo screeched in fear, turned tail and fled back to the forest behind.

As the archer hit the ground he was already on his feet and ready to parry Zidane's attacks, first left, then right, then up, then a thrust... but he had only one knife, Zidane had two, and he was an archer, never intending to fight in close-quarters. It was not long before the archer was off balance, a gaping cut in his arm, and Zidane took the opportunity to jab at him. His opponent tried to step backwards, but lost his footing as he did so, falling heavily onto his back. His knife came loose, and Zidane kicked it away before dropping on top of the man, knife at his throat. "Who are you!?" Zidane demanded, his voice harsh; his breaths short and rapid.

The archer looked back at him with hate and said; "A man of honour, but you know nothing of that, thief!" 


	3. The Iron Clad Man

Zidane pushed his blade in a little deeper. "I'm gonna ask you one more time: who are you?" 

"We are soldiers of a sacred charge, and nothing more are you worthy to know!"

And with that he pulled his head upwards with enormours force, forcing Zidane's dagger deep into his neck. As he died, the archer had a look of victory on his face, and Zidane swore loudly before turning back to the battle at hand. Baku and Cinna were just about keeping the other riders at bay, but Blank was still struggling with his wound. Zidane charged towards the nearest rider - the armoured man wielding a sword - and leaped into the air. He flipped forwads and used this momentum to bring his blade crashing down onto the head of the man who was stepping his steed backwards out of harms way...

He crashed into the ground with a sickening thud, embedding his dagger in the ground all the way up to the hilt. He rolled to his left, making his second weapon ready as his attacker moved in to strike. Before Zidane had his bearings back he felt a hot pain across his leg as a length of steel slashed across the surface. He gritted his teeth and bore the pain as he jumped to his feet and parried the next strike. Once again the sword flashed towards him but Zidane rolled underneath, slamming hard into the legs of the chocobo. The bird screeched and fell heavily, depositing its rider on the ground a few feet away. He was up quickly and moving towards Zidane. His armour crescendoed as he picked up speed and the sound of metal striking metal seemed to explode across the camp as his sword met Zidane's dagger. Zidane fell backwards at the force of the hit, but he was on his feet and ready for the next.

Five strikes later and Zidane was rubbing his backside, praying the pain would be over soon. The ground wasn't the softest and the rate Zidane was up and down under the strikes of his opponent you eould think he was bouncing. Another clang, another thud, and Zidane was wishing he'd never knocked that damn Chocobo over. The strength this man had was astounding, especially considering the armour he had to contend with. Zidane didn't have long to think this because he was on the ground again, his strength failing him. He couldn't get up... he couldn't fight back. Another clang and Zidane's dagger was knocked from his hand, before a shadow loomed over him. The sunlight reflected off the sword raised above the iron man's head, a look of triumph etched into his face. Then, with one final swing, he-

"Ambrose! No!"

The call came from a gruff voice a few yards to the left, where the axe-wielder was battling Baku. The iron man looked over to him and lowered his sword. "Why?" he asked, obviously disappointed.

"The monkey is to be captured; lord Kuja wishes to see him before his death."

Ambrose nodded in reluctant agreement, and reached down to his captive. But Zidane had got his second wind. Waiting for the moment the iron man was off balance the most, he burst upwards, slamming hard into the breastplate. He fell backwards, dropping his sword, and Zidane grabbed hold gratfully. He hit Ambrose hard around the head with the hilt, knocking him out col, before turning to the battle that still raged behind him. Blank was standing by now, blood gushing freely from his now arrowless wound. Cinna was taking on the younger of the two remaining riders, Baku and Blank the axe-wielder. This one cursed as he saw Zidane standing close by, sword in hand, and shouted to the other man: "Brother! Go! Take everything and go!"

The younger brother kicked Cinna aside and rode around to the other side of the camp, leaning down to pick up the box of equipment they had left earlier in the day, as well as taking hold of Ambrose's bird and directing it beside his own. Once retrieved, his urged his steed forward and around the camp once more. As he did this, the axe-wielder jumped off his Chocobo and pushed Baku, Blank and Cinna back with the weapon. As they recovered their breath, he held out the reigns of his bird. The younger man rode to him and took them, pulling the third chocobo along the other side of him. "Brother!" The younger one called, "I take my leave of you now! Until we meet again, in Dali!"

"In Dali!" came the reply.

Zidane, Blank, Cinna, and Baku stood in a group in front of their adversary as the three remaining chocobo's galloped off into the distance. "Set down your weapons," he said, twirling his dual axe threateningly in his hands, "and you, monkey, come with me."

Zidane raised his sword. "I was irritated when you tied me up. I was cheesed off when you nicked my sausages. And at this point in time I've finished the cheese and moved on to the tea and biscuits, so why the hell should I come with you!?"

"You're coming with me, concious or not. Do it quietly and I'll let your friends live."

"Who are you!?!" demanded Zidane.

"I am an agent of your Master, Zidane."


	4. The Unknown Power

This was not, upon reflection, one of Zidane Tribal's better days. He'd been gagged, bound, attacked and verbally abused before it had even got to noon. Added to the fact he was having to cope with all this on an empty stomach - he still couldn't believe the bastards nicked his sausages - he was pretty damn miffed. He wished he could sink back into the dream he'd been enjoying the previous night, but thought better of it; doing so may present the wielder of twin-bladed death a slightly more static target then Zidane intended to give him for the next decade or so. They say keep your friend's close and your enemies closer...but keeping this guy at anything approaching arm's reach would be a waste of a perfectly good arm - and Zidane liked his arms. Especially his right one. He did all his favourite things with it.

Baku broke the silence that had engulfed the standoff. "ACHOO!"he exclaimed violently. Unfortunatly, the axe-wielder seemed to take this as a war cry, so he lunged forward and swung his weapon at the boss. Baku parried the strike as the other three leaped to his aid. Blank and Zidane struck with their swords whilst Cinna tried to pound with the hammer, but not even the efforts of four combined would get through. The other thief would duck, dodge and parry and somehow manage to squeeze in the odd strike of his own. No matter how hard they tried the tantalus boys couldn't wear him down, and all of a sudden things got a lot worse.

Zidane tried a stab, and as he did so he was thrown backwards a full ten feet by a phenomanal burst of energy, the other tantalus boys experiencing the same. He slammed into the ground hard on his back, the pain burning his body like lightning. He swore and rolled over onto his belly, looking up as he did so to see what had thrown him backwards. The axe-wielder was glowing a bright, pulsating blue; his bandana was gone from atop his head and in its place an elegant barbut. His clothing was shimmering now as it became metallic and even his weapon had changed. He smiled and spun his dual-axe around his head. "Behold my weapon! Behold the power in my grasp that you could never even imagine! The Tower is finally mine!" And then, as if to show of his new toy, he swung one of the blades over his head and struck the ground. Zidane jumped at the vibration and could do nothing but stare at the tidal wave of earth that careered towards him now. Five feet high and ten across, there wasn't time to get out of the way, so he braced himself for the impact which came moments later, throwing him into the air once more. Still concious, he managed to open his eyes at the peak of his arch and began tumbling towards the ground once more. But, as he watched the world rush towards him, he noticed a blue flash underneath, and suddenly the axe-wielder was there in front of his eyes, his features contorted into a look of menacing delight. Zidane raised his sword to try and parry the strike that came and succeeded, but the impact threw him another ten feet up. Another flash, and this time his attacker was above and behind him, forcing Zidane to twist awkwardly mid-flight. Again he parried, but the force of the hit shot him into the ground with the speed of a bullet. There was an almighty crash, and the axe-wielder landed softly a few feet away from the impact.

Zidane lay still in the crater he had just made in the earth. His breathing was was shallow and was coming faster and faster. His sword lay shattered to his right. He couldn't move either of his legs, and only his left hand arm. Moments later, he saw faces appear over the rim of the crater, his friends' faces. Blank jumped down the six feet to the side of his comrade and put a bottle to his lips. "Drink it", he said. Zidane did so, but it was hard to swallow. Eventually he got it down him though, and the pain eased enough for him to move his head a little. "What was that...?" he asked.

"Just a potion" said Blank, "And now I've got a question for you"  
"Yeah"?

"...how did you survive?" 


End file.
